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The house was silent and empty.
My partner – the man I’d moved to the most boring city on earth to be with – had moved out, taking the sofa, kitchen table and television with him. I was stranded in a suburban wasteland I’d never warmed to no matter how much wine I drank. To make matters worse, it was November: dark, cold, and the first real taste of winter’s long haul ahead. The only thing I had to look forward to was the fact that my cat – the cat my ex had claimed he was allergic to – was now allowed back in the bedroom. That this made me so excited was a clear indication I really needed to change my life.
But what to do? Sure, I could join my friends at the bar, guzzling drinks until my present became pleasurably blurred. But I wanted something more, something besides vodka. Leafing through a community centre catalogue, activities leaped out at me. Pottery – I could be Demi Moore in Ghost! No, I decided, I could barely make a lump out of cookie dough. Book club? I hated being told what to read.
I turned a page. And there it was. I knew, as soon as my eyes fell upon it, that this would be it. Trampoline lessons!
I’d always envied those athletes, bouncing high and spinning in the air. The freedom to leave the ground behind, to twist and turn at will! Granted, I hadn’t exercised for about a year, but no matter. A little bouncing up and down couldn’t be that hard, could it?
I took the plunge and signed up, co-opting a few other friends into joining me. Registration done, I searched the shops high and low for the perfect trampolining outfit, settling on softly flared jogging bottoms and a lovely chic new tank top. I was ready for my trampoline debut.
When it came time for my first lesson, though, I was in no mood for fun. I’d spent the day sorting through kitchen utensils, trying to determine which forks and spoons were mine and which belonged to my recently departed ex. Cold sleet was slicing through the sky and if ever there was a day I wanted to curl up under a duvet, this was it. But I forced myself into the car and over to the gym where the lessons were taking place. Nervous, I climbed up onto the shoulder-high trampoline and did a few test bounces. Higher and higher I went, loving the feeling of being flung in the air. Sweat covered my face and my legs felt like jelly, but I was grinning like a idiot. Who could stay sad on a trampoline?
As the weeks went on and complications in my personal life increased, trampolining became my therapy. It didn’t matter that I’d spent the day arguing over phone bills or hunting for a new flat I could barely afford on my limited income. As soon as I climbed aboard and began bouncing, that trampoline magically lifted my mood.
Eventually the snow melted, the sun appeared and summer came to the city. I stopped going to that dusty gymnasium and somersaulting in the air; I started to think about dating again; and I wasn’t nearly as excited about my cat sleeping on my bed. But I’ll never forget the power of the trampoline to raise my spirits when I needed it most.
*
I just love the thought of trampolining as therapy!
Talli blogs here and you can follow her on Twitter . Anyone whose email signature line is -
‘I drink coffee. I write. Then I drink wine.’
- has got to be worth reading.
Thanks so much for the guest post, Stephanie! It might seem slightly bizarre but honestly, trampolining is the best for putting a smile on your face. You can’t *not* smile.
Thanks again!
I love the idea of not being able not to smile – I agree, from my distant menories of trampolining!
I love the idea of bouncing my cares away, but fear for the health of the minimads, so no trampoline here yet!
There’s something about trampolines. Just reading about one put a smile on my face this morning. Great post.
Mason
Thoughts in Progress
That sounds like so much fun! I’m not afraid of the jumping part, it’s the falling part. lol. My daughter took a gymnastics class at a place that had the perfect trampoline. It was set over a hole, I guess, because it was flat to the floor, and nothing but deep pads all around it. Only, I couldn’t use it because I was the mom, but my daughter loved it.
Awwwwww!!
At my previous place, our house was next to a family with a couple of kids and yes – a trampoline. Many a day wouldn’t pass without their little heads bobbing up and down while they screamed their lungs off the little dears. When the sun came out, the trampoline was packed up in place of an inflatable swimming pool.
So this post has come a looooong way for me to forgive the makers of trampolines. Now that I know it’s helped you chase away the breakup blues and helped you cope with the strains and stresses of life I now view this piece of equipment not as something I’d wanted to sabotage when I lived next to these kiddies but as something that has brought you joy and peace! I have found closure.
Oh and what happened to the cat?
Lovely piece, thanks for this Talli and Stephanie!
Take care
x
Talli is a great writer – I enjoyed that!
That does sound like great fun!
Great post Talli. I love the way you write.
Many thanks again to Stephanie for hosting me here and thank you all for the lovely comments!
Old Kitty – sadly the cat passed on but it was happy with me sans ex! And I’m sorry for your trampoline trauma.
Ahh, Talli, you make me want to jump on a trampoline. What fun.
Helen
Straight From Hel
What a great story! It makes me want to go out and get on a trampoline right now! But gosh, I haven’t been on one since high school gym class… I’m sorry about your cat but glad his final years were happy ones
Where do I sign up. It sounds like fun, although at my age, I’m probably going to break my neck.
CD
You know how some people have flying dreams? I have BOUNCING dreams. They are my FAVORITE (at least of the G-rated ones). I really should do something like this. I LOVE the idea of just BOUNCING–though at one point in my life I did gymnastics, and now the idea of flipping scares the bejeezus out of me, so I’m worried I would think I was a weenie)
Great post, Tally – *I’m gonna bounce than man right out of my life*!